


keep them on (keep taking them off)

by orphan_account



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: Get Together, Kink Meme, M/M, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-01
Updated: 2011-04-01
Packaged: 2017-10-20 22:29:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clothes sharing. Mark is a little devious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	keep them on (keep taking them off)

Eduardo exits the bathroom in boxer shorts, pulling Mark's t-shirt over his head as he hops around, looking for his sneakers, and Mark stops in the middle of a line of code. Mark never stops in the middle of a line of code unless there's a national emergency, and even then, he sometimes doesn't.

Eduardo's chest is hard and flat under the material, his upper arms lean with well-defined muscle, and Mark has never, ever filled out his old high school t-shirt like that, because he's scrawny and awkward and he tends to slouch, which only makes Eduardo look taller. As Dustin so aptly points out when he's not around to hear, Eduardo tends to walk like he's got a broom up his ass.

Except now he's wearing Mark's t-shirt and no pants, and Mark's brain must be short-circuiting from the overflow of new data. It must be the novelty of seeing Eduardo out of his suit, because it certainly cannot have anyhing at all to do with sexual attraction, despite the evidence of Mark's dick taking an uprising interest. Eduardo is not for that. Eduardo is Mark's friend, and Mark wants to keep it that way, thank you very much.

"Mark," Eduardo says, and snaps his fingers at Mark's face twice. "Mark, where is my econ folder, I put it on your desk? It's gone!"

Mark stares up at him, blinks. "What?"

Eduardo swears, then just throws up his hands and dives down beside the bed, picking up - Mark's hoodie. "I'm borrowing this. My suit jacket's gone too. Tell Dustin he's dead. Not zombie dead. Not pretend-dead. Dead like a deadly - something." He sounds muffled for the ten seconds in which he's got his mouth full of hoodie, and then he re-emerges, flushed, his fluffy hair dishevelled. "Anyway, gotta run, I'm late." He rushes past Mark, then turns on his heel, comes back, presses a quick kiss on top of Mark's curls, and then heads out finally, door falling shut behind him.

Mark twirls in one full circle on his swivel chair and decides to ignore everything that has just happened. Freak morning. Moving on.

 

\- - - - -

 

There must be, Mark thinks, a very good reason for why they're drunk on a Tuesday afternoon despite the fact that a) they only had a sixpack of beers and that shit bottle of wine Chris got as a token of affection from whoever's attempting to get his chastity belt off this week. And b) it's not even six pm yet.

Well, there was that exam from hell Eduardo had this morning apparently, half-term exam or some other ridiculous measure his professor came up with to ensure they'd all pass the end-of-term exams. Mark could have hacked the guy's email and possibly his home computer to get the questions and the answers, but Eduardo's a gentleman of highest calibre, whatever that means. When Eduardo says that, affronted, Dustin snorts beer out through his nose and so makes another dark spot on the already fairly spot-covered couch. Beer also spills all over Eduardo.

Eduardo's suit will never be the same again, and neither will Mark's hormones. He cannot stop watching as Eduardo undresses, and he can stop watching even less when Eduardo heads over to Mark's closet like it belongs to him, pulls out a freshly laundered t-shirt (thank you, Chris) and slips it on. Mark wants to take it right off and lick a trail down Eduardo's stomach, but that would be really weird, and Dustin should probably not be exposed to further trauma lest his hilarious insanity turn into serial-killeritis.

When Eduardo returns to his seat, the only free spot left is right on the still-damp beer stain. "You fucking assholes," he says, and kicks both Dustin and Chris in the shins before he settles down on the floor before Mark's legs, spreading them apart to fit between them, leaning back with his head against Mark's knee. "I'm the exhausted one after that farce of an exam. I should be allowed to lie all over the couch while you fan me with giant leaves and feed me grapes."

Mark doesn't answer because he's deciding what to do with the patch of skin presented to him between Eduardo's stretched-out neck and the neckline of his t-shirt. Mark's t-shirt. Mark's fingers itch to touch, and his face is suddenly very warm, so that he wants to press it there to see if Eduardo feels cooler, and maybe also kiss, trace the skin with his mouth, make Eduardo's breath come in puffs and moans. The effect of that train of thought is unfortunate. Eduardo's head is inches away from said effect.

"Shut up," Chris bitches, and slaps Dustin over his head when Dustin starts ranting at Eduardo about the eternal dilemma of raisins vs grapes. "We're watching a movie, remember? This is a good movie. Don't ruin it." Then he slaps Dustin again for good measure.

"You're the normal one usually," Mark hears himself say, and his hand wanders unconsciously to Eduardo's neck, where it stays, despite Mark's best attempts at dislodging it. "But when you're drunk, you're the biggest queen."

Dustin starts to snicker, and even Eduardo gives a little cough. Chris slaps Mark, too, which, ouch, and also, that should be impossible because he's all the way over there. Chris must have magical homosexual powers.

Eduardo never protests the lazy circles Mark draws on his neck. Indeed, he leans into it after a while and murmurs softly, shifting every time Mark stops the motion. Mark smiles and keeps going, and if his fingers sometimes slip down the neckline of the t-shirt, well, it's not like Eduardo jumps up and accuses him of rape, so it's probably all good.

 

\- - - - -

 

Mark draws the line at boxershorts. Or he would, but - and his brain actually stops working there - he has no idea why Eduardo would need to silently tiptoe into the bathroom so early in the morning with a pair of Mark's boxershorts. Unless something really embarrassing happened, and hey, they're nineteen, and Mark does agree that his bed is pretty amazing that way. Though if Eduardo _jerked off_ in it, that. Would be really fucking hot, actually, so Mark's trying not to think about it.

It makes him feel like a creep when he rises from the chair in which he's once again spent the night coding, and lets himself fall into the bed, burying his face in the pillow. It smells fresh still, because unlike the other pigs he lives with (Chris excepted), he does change his sheets once a month, and the last time was two days ago. It also smells of Eduardo, just a little bit, the cologne he wears (just a hint of it, but he can never tell what it smells _like_ , just that it smells really good), and sex. He grows hard just thinking about it, and rubs his hips down against the bed, relieving the sudden pressure.

The bathroom door unlocks and Mark jumps up, red-cheeked and guilty and feeling like he's been caught doing something dirty, which potentially, he has. Of course, if Eduardo actually whacked it in his bed, Eduardo beats him at the dirty department, so. Mark wonders if it's worth investigating this.

When Eduardo steps into the room, he's wearing Mark's green-striped boxershorts, the ones his sister bought him for his birthday a few years ago, and it should not be a turn-on, but it totally is. He ignores the whole sister part and concentrates on the way Eduardo's legs look under the material, the little hairs, still wet from the shower, drawing drops of water along, his knees. Mark does not want to stare at Eduardo's knees, but he can't help it. He would love to push Eduardo down onto the bed, on his stomach, and crawl down until he can put his lips on the space behind his knees, giving them little licks until Eduardo cannot contain his giggles. Eduardo is ticklish everywhere. The backs of his knees must be torture for him.

"Mark?" Eduardo asks, sounding curious.

Mark draws his gaze away from Eduardo's knees and up to his face. "Yeah?"

"What - is there something wrong?"

"No," Mark says quickly. In moments like these, he's glad to have his face completely under control, because otherwise he would be wearing that ridiculously soppy expression Dustin sometimes gets on his face when the recent girl he fancies smiles at him in the hallways. "Nothing wrong. Just tired," he adds when Eduardo frowns.

Eduardo nods. He looks - uncomfortable. He hops closer and, still looking vaguely uncomfortable, he glances from Mark to the bed and back to Mark. "I - um. Sorry about. Anyway. It's. You should get some sleep. It's only six am, you - your class starts in four hours, right? You can do four hours of sleep. I could do with four more hours of sleep, actually, but since you need the sleep more, you should - I mean. It's. I have my own bed. I should go back to my own bed, I'm sorry, is that why you don't sleep? Because I take up your bed? Because you should tell me if that's -"

"I sleep when I'm not coding," Mark tells him. "I code at night."

Eduardo nods. "All right. I figured, but I wasn't too sure." His boxershorts have hitched up his left thigh, and Mark wants to push them up even further to see if he can get to Eduardo's cock and maybe touch it. With his mouth.

Eduardo follows the line of his gaze and straightens out the seam before he realizes what he's doing and pulls it back up, and then flushes hotly and says, "I'm sorry about borrowing your underwear. I'll throw them in the wash right away -"

"- it's fine," Mark says.

"What?"

"It's fine. You can wear them. Have them. Keep them. I don't. You should wear them. A lot." Then he realizes what he's just said and wants to kill himself. This is not what he usually sounds like. He wants to make sure Eduardo knows this, but no smart things come to mind immediately, which is a tragedy. "I mean," he corrects himself.

"All right," Eduardo helps him out. He's scratching at his stomach underneath his shirt. "I will. Thank you."

Mark wishes he was wearing one of Mark's t-shirts. It would make it so much easier to demand that he take it off. This way, no dice.

 

\- - - - -

 

Mark tries to figure out why he gets so turned on by Wardo wearing his clothes once. He googles it, and of course, that's exactly the moment Dustin is sneaking glances over his shoulder.

"Kinky," he comments with a giant grin on his face. "I approve, Zucks. I approve." He thumps Mark's shoulder a few times and then narrows his eyes. "So who's the lovely lady you're pissing on by way of clothes? Because I don't believe I have seen a human of the vaginal persuasion in this dorm since... ever, actually."

Mark rolls his eyes. "Go away, Dustin," he says.

Dustin thumps his arm again. That's going to bruise. Then Eduardo comes in, holding a stack of DVDs and a sixpack, wearing one of his suits.

Later that night, Mark accidentally spills his beer on him, and Eduardo curses a lot because that suit was fucking expensive, thank you, Mark, thanks, this will take forever to dry-clean. He lets Mark lend him his favorite sweater in apology, and also, Mark lets him take over the whole couch and put his head in Mark's lap, so Eduardo is suitably soothed. (Even though Dustin and Chris have to sit on the floor and so glare at them all through the movies. Not that Mark cares.)

 

\- - - - -

 

The problem with Dustin is that he might act like a moronic fucktard the majority of the time, but in actuality he is one of the smartest people Mark has ever met; or well, one of the smartest people in a world where Mark doesn't displace the normal distribution of intelligence. In any case, he is pretty damn smart for a non-Mark humanoid being, so the third time Mark spills something over Eduardo and makes him wear his clothes, Dustin says, "I wasn't joking about the marking. Hah, see what I did there? Marking? Mark?"

Chris shoves at his side with his elbow. "I am going to sell you to Jon Stewart and he will use you on his show as his trained monkey if you don't shut up."

"It has been my lifelong dream to be on the Daily Show," Dustin sighs, hearts in his eyes. "Even as a trained monkey."

"What the fuck is he even talking about?" Eduardo asks. He's lounging on the floor in Mark's t-shirt, and a pair of old pyjama pants he officially brought to Mark's room a few weeks ago after his roommate sexiled him for three days running. The pants are too short around the ankles, and it drives Mark crazy because there is nothing worse than too-short pyjama pants. He has considered buying Eduardo new ones, but that might be considered creepy, so he's holding off until he can ask Chris about it in a quiet moment of cameraderie.

"Nothing," Chris says loudly. "Dustin, have a pretzel and stuff it?" Chris is a good, good man.

Dustin only snorts. "Mark wants to maaaark you, Eduardo," he sing-songs. He hasn't even had his third beer, which means he's only playing up the drunkenness to be obnoxious.

"Shut up, Dustin," Mark says, feeling himself grow defensive. Dustin should know by now that a few more pushes will end in Mark not being responsible for any vileness coming out of his mouth.

"Except pissing on someone requires a form of consent in written form or something, or so I hear," Dustin carries on, grinning like a lunatic, "So he showers you in sweet beer instead - which, by the way, I could be drinking right now, thanks douchebag - and then makes you wear his own clothes. Isn't that sweet?"

Eduardo's staring at Dustin open-mouthed. Chris has buried his face in his hands. Dustin takes another swig from his bottle and says, "Cheers. And now we can clear out so you guys can like, fuck. Or piss on each other. Or whatever it is that you two do when we're not around to play video games with you losers. You're welcome, by the way."

"Don't kill him," Chris asks Mark, hauling Dustin up by his arm.

"Yeah," Dustin says. "Except how would he, Mark punches like a gay - girl -"

"You won't have to," Chris assures Mark. "Because I will kill him. Slowly. By throwing him at a group of hazing fratboys, so that no one will be able to prove it was me." And then he drags Dustin out of the room.

The silence is deafening once they're gone. Eduardo's picking at a loose thread in those damn pyjama pants, and really, Mark needs to get him new ones ASAP. As soon as he has some leftover cash. Possibly Eduardo can afford his own pyjama pants a lot more easily. Mark tries to get his thoughts in order and not constantly twist away from the topic at hand, but it's hard when Eduardo shifts like he wants to leave after the other two and throw himself at a group of hazing fratboys as well.

"I," Mark says. "That's. What Dustin said. It's not true."

Eduardo looks up. His eyes are huge, and a little wounded. Mark hates it when he wears that look. It makes him want to do more than just take Eduardo down and pin him to the bed and ravish him by ripping off all of his own t-shirts that Eduardo has borrowed (and never given back unless he's giving them back by wearing them.)

"It's fine," Wardo finally says. "Dustin was just being a jerk, like Chris said."

"I mean," Mark presses on, ignoring him. "Some of it's true. But not the part about the pee. I don't really want that. I think that's Dustin's kink, actually. He's very fixated on it. I just like it when you wear my clothes." He tries to think about it these days like he thinks about the fact that he can speak computer, and likes Red Bull. Like it's a part of him, and nothing to be ashamed of. It still makes his stomach churn though, not sure what reaction to expect from Eduardo.

But the thing is, Eduardo is _Eduardo_. He's the gentlest, nicest, genuinely warmest person Mark has ever met, and he has never once judged Mark for anything, so when Eduardo just smiles a sweet little smile and tilts his head, saying, "Really? That's... kind of cute.", Mark wonders what he was so afraid of.

It gives him the courage to add, "And most of the time, I want to take them off of you as well."

Eduardo pauses. He bites his lip, hands twisting in his lap. "Does that mean -?" He's leaning towards Mark a little, looking at Mark's mouth.

And that's the cue, the one they always have in the movies, and shit has Mark sat through some stupid fucking brain-cell-killing movies. They better have been worth it for the kissing.

Mark leans in. Their lips meet only barely and he tries to get at Eduardo's mouth with his tongue, but Eduardo makes a "mmh" sound and doesn't really do much in return. And it's really awkward there for a second, except then they end up hugging instead, Eduardo burying his face in Mark's neck where he laughs softly.

"Um," Mark says.

"Sorry," Eduardo says breathlessly. "I wasn't expecting you to just... go for it."

Mark pulls back a little. Eduardo is very flushed, and smiling widely. "You're not going to punch me though, right?" he asks, just to be sure.

"What? No!" Eduardo protests. "I'm glad. I'm just. I didn't really think you wanted that."

"Oh," Mark says.

"You're not so easy to read."

"Oh." Mark nods. "Yeah. I've been told that."

Eduardo smiles. It's bright and happy and his eyes shine. Mark's stomach does a little twirl, like when he goes round on his swivel chair too much, except better, so much better. Then Eduardo leans in and kisses him first, and this time, they do it properly. They move their lips against each other carefully at first, and Mark tries out how it feels to graze Eduardo's lower lip with his teeth, and that makes him open his mouth, so he does, too, trying to get it right this time.

Eduardo's tongue is quick and warm and it feels amazing when it touches Mark's, and Mark leans forward, pressing into Eduardo more, feeling the material of his t-shirt against his own chest. He has no idea what to do with his hands, so he runs them underneath the shirt, up Eduardo's back, drawing his fingers up and down his spine. Eduardo shudders against him and kisses harder.

"You really do like the clothes thing, don't you?" he jokes against Mark's lips, and caresses Mark's face, drawing his thumb over his cheek.

Mark shrugs. "Yeah," he admits, because at this point, it's old news. "My shirts beat your suits."

"Really," Eduardo says, eyes crinkling. "That's good. Because I like wearing your clothes." He kisses Mark again, a quick peck. "Now we'll just have to see how well we do without them."

"Don't think that'll be a problem," Mark assures. But just in case, he grasps the hem of the t-shirt and pulls it over Eduardo's head. And that, really, is the best part.

 

\- - - - -  
End


End file.
